These Moments
by laura-csm
Summary: How are you supposed to act after horrible things happen? How are you supposed to act when horrible things are happening? Moments between Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Harry after the war.
1. Love You

Disclaimer: How many times do I have to say that I don't own Harry Potter?

Special thanks to Anna for helping me with this chapter!

**Timeline: A few weeks after the Battle of Hogwarts. **

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Harry sat under a tree in the Burrow's garden. It was a lovely summer's afternoon, just as it had been every day for the last couple of weeks. Things were going as well as could be expected. Funerals have come and gone- all with terrible sadness. The Weasleys had mourned- but when George had gone back to his old self, pulling a harmless prank on Pig by giving him a canary cream cake, a coupledays ago, everyone seemed to be trying to move on. And Ginny- Ginny was wonderful. She was the most incredible person in the world. Harry didn't know how he had survived almost a year without her.

He could hear laughter and he knew Hermione and Ron were coming. They were almost inseparable and Harry could see a new glow in Hermione, one he hadn't seen before.

"Ready, Harry?" Hermione asked as she and Ron sat down on the grass next to him.

"I suppose. It's now or never," Harry replied.

They had wanted to have that conversation for a while now. Since the battle, they hadn't talked about horcrux hunting, Malfoy Manor, anything about the war. They had postponed press conferences, only giving a brief description of what they had done to Kingsley. Earlier that morning, they had decided that finally, they would have to have that conversation.

"We-we better clean the story up. There's a lot of polishing to do. We better had be sure of what we're saying before we start talking to the press," Hermione said.

"Alright. I suppose we should tell them the main facts. My meetings with Dumbledore, the memories, and the night he-he died," said Harry with some sadness in his voice.

"Yes, we might as well start the beginning. We should tell them everything."

"Not everything," Ron said, looking alarmed.

"Yes, of course, not everything," Hermione told him.

"I suppose we won't tell them about the horcrux torturing us," Ron said.

"Or about when you destroyed the horcrux," Harry said. As he was saying it, he realized that he had said the wrong thing. Ron was wincing and Hermione was staring curiously at them.

"Ron? Harry? What happened? You didn't really say when you two came back," Hermione said.

"Harry- Voldemort didn't kill you, but one day, I will," Ron said looking at Harry.

"Yeah, I know, sorry mate. You better tell her. She will keep bothering you until you tell her. I'll- I'll leave you two alone to talk," Harry said, starting to get up.

"No, stay here Harry," Ron said. He turned to Hermione. "When Harry told the locked to open, there was a voice, Riddle's voice saying all of my insecurities. He said that I was the least loved by a mother craving a daughter. That I was least loved, by the girl who preferred my best friend, always second best."

Hermione started to say something, Ron stopped her by putting his finger on her lips.

"Let me finish. Then, two figures came out of the locket, you and Harry."

"Me and Harry?"

"Yes. You said that you'd never love me, that who could love me, when Harry was around. Then- then you kissed."

"We kissed? Oh Ron! You know that I love you!"

"Yeah I know."

Ron and Hermione started kissing tenderly and Harry pointedly looked away not wanting to interfere.

"You still love me though, right?" Harry asked suddenly. Ron and Hermione then  
broke their kiss and looked at Harry. The three of them started laughing. It felt good to laugh once more.

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	2. You Got In

_Disclaimer: I do not wish to steal Harry Potter from J.K.R. at all. I'm just having fun. _

xxxxxxx

"Oh where the hell is it?" Hermione exclaimed as she paced in Grimmauld Place's kitchen. She, Ron and Harry were waiting for her acceptance letter into the Ministry. She had gone to an interview the week before to apply for a job.

"Calm down, Hermione. Your interview was one week ago," Ron said putting his hands on her shoulders.

"I know, but why can't they just say, 'Oh Hermione, we love you, we want you!' or 'Hermione we cannot stand the sight of you. Never talk to us again!'?" Hermione said fretfully.

"You're going to get the job, Hermione. Don't worry! You're the smartest witch your age. Besides, no one loves house elves as much as you," Harry said from where he was sitting at the kitchen table sipping a butterbeer.

"That's easy for you to say, Harry! You were accepted at the Auror program at- oh Merlin's pants! A Ministry owl!" Hermione cried as she saw an owl pecking at the window. Hermione opened the window and retrieved the letter from the owl's leg. With her hands shaking, she started to open the letter but stopped.

"Oh, I can't do this! Here, Harry, you open it."

"I can't do that! It's your job!"

"Please Harry?"

"Alright, I will. No wait, I have bad luck. You do it Ron," Harry said handing the letter to Ron.

"Hell, Hermione. Can't you do a spell for it to tell you?"

"There aren't spells for everything, Ron. Just tell me!"

"You got in," Ron calmly stated after quickly scanning the letter.

"Oh, I knew I should- what? What did you say?" Hermione asked with an astonished look on her face.

"You go in."

"You're saying that I got in? I got in? Merlin, I got in! Let me see the letter!" she exclaimed.

Ron handed her the letter and as Hermione began to read, she began shrieking. She kissed Ron and hugged Harry.

"Oh dear. I better go and get my robes from the Ministry. I have to tell Mum! She'll be so happy! Oh where is some parchment? I have to make some lists!" Hermione said as she began rummaging in her bag.

"Hermione, er, love? Maybe you should calm down and have a cup of tea. You can do those things later. You should relax while you can."  
"Relax? Oh Ron, I couldn't possibly relax! I have too many things to do! I'll be back in a while. I'm going to dash to Flourish and Botts," she said quickly kissing Ron and grabbing some Floo Powder from the mantle on the fireplace.

"Mental she is. Mental! Can you imagine how she's going to be when she gets a promotion? I'm telling you Harry, it's going to be impossible living with her!" Ron exclaimed to Harry as soon as Hermione had left.

"But you love her. You'll want to live with her," Harry pointed out.

"Yeah, you're right. I love her," Ron replied with a smile on his face.

_xxxxxxx_

_Sorry it took a while to get a chapter out. I've sort of lost interest in this story, but there'll be at least 2 more chapters up soon. I'm more interested in "I Saw" right now. _


	3. Sugar Quills

_**Disclaimer**: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. _

_Much thanks to Anna for helping me edit this chapter. _

_This is a missing moment from when the trio was in hiding in Deathly Hallows. _

* * *

Hiding was never easy. As a child, Hermione loved to play 'Hide and Go-Seek' with her cousins Connor and Elizabeth. She never won, because she picked the same places to hide in always, in the bathtub, behind a tree, and under the bed. Now that she was older, she realized that hiding hadn't got any easier.

Hiding, in fact, had gotten harder.

The three of them woke up every morning and Hermione would (try) to make breakfast. The boys would eat it and she'd wash up. Then she'd do some reading while they did watch and talk and look for things to eat. They'd spend the whole day alternating roles, but something was missing. The first days they talked, but now there were long periods of the time that they went without speaking.

And Hermione missed Ron. He was there of course, but he wasn't Ron. He wasn't _her _Ron. He wasn't the Ron that made jokes and tried to make the best out of a situation. The Ron she loved. This Ron was a Ron who muttered incoherent comments under his breath and never talked. He was like that every time he had that damn, bloody locket on.

It didn't help that today was September 19th. Her 18th birthday. The day was almost over and no one had remembered. It was the first birthday she'd spent without someone telling her "Happy Birthday". She missed it. It surprised her, because she usually disliked her birthday. But this day she _wanted _someone to remember. She wanted something. She wanted something other than silence.

She also wanted this to be over. It had been only been days since they'd been in hiding and she was sick. She was sick of being alert. She was sick of cooking. She was sick of keeping watch, something that she was now doing. Glancing towards Harry who was sleeping, she shook her head. No, she had to be strong. Harry and Ron needed her to do this. Besides, she was hardly doing any watch. Ron and Harry seemed to take all the shifts. She might as well leave them rest.

"Thinking, are we?" a voice asked.

She gave a little gasp and turned to look for the voice, extending her wand out. It was Ron.

"You startled me!" she exclaimed drawing her wand back.

"Sorry," he answered sheepishly. "So were you?"

"Yes," she admitted. "The usual, about Horcruxes," she lied. She noted he had a small, rectangular box with him. She pointed at the box and asked, "What's that?"

He looked to see what she was pointing at. "Oh, er, here," he replied, his ears going red and handing the box to her. "Happy Birthday," he added.

Her eyes widened as she took it. "You remembered," she breathed.

"Yeah, why not? September 19th. Can't forget that, can I?"

She nodded, uncertain what to say. She opened the box and gasped. "Sugar Quills. My favorite. But – but – how did you get them?"

He looked smug. "I have my ways."

"Thanks," she whispered. She looked at him. Oh Ron, her Ron. He had remembered.

His face turned red once again. "Glad you liked them."

They remained silent for a while. Now this time, it was a comfortable silence that passed. It wasn't like the long, usual long silence they had gotten used to all these days. It was a type of silence that happened when they patrolled at Hogwarts and had run out of things to say to each other, but were fine with it.

"Hermione?" Ron suddenly asked.

She turned to him. "Yes?"

"Do you – do you think that everything will come out alright?"

She sighed. No, she did not know. How many nights had she not been able to sleep, thinking the same question. "I don't know," she replied, not wanting to lie.

He nodded once again. After a long silence, he exclaimed, "It seems so unfair, don't you think? We still have the rest of our lives, for Merlin's sake! We didn't go back seventh year, we have to get jobs, we have to marry! We have to have kids! It has to be alright. It has to!"

Hermione looked shocked at the sudden outburst. He had actually cared about seventh year. He had mentioned _marrying_ and _children. _Marrying and children, for Merlin's sake! He hadn't mentioned marrying her, and having children together, but for her, it was good enough.

She gulped. "It will be alright, Ron. We just have to have faith. And everything will turn out. We have Harry. Harry will resolve everything. Like Dumbledore said, Harry's the best hope we have."

Ron glanced towards Harry in the tent. He was snoring loudly. "Think he's alright?" Ron asked motioning towards Harry.

"I don't think so. You know how Harry is," Hermione replied measuring her words carefully. "The locket doesn't help," she added.

"That locket's mental. Er, Hermione, you know that the locket doesn't let me be myself. I – I say things that I shouldn't with it," Ron stammered.

"Don't worry Ron, I know," Hermione assured him. She smiled at him, but quickly sighed and looked at the sky. "It makes me think things too. Things I don't like." The locket indeed make her think things she didn't like. Whenever she had it on, she'd keep seeing Lavender's face. She kept thinking that Ron didn't want her, that he preferred Lavender Brown. She kept seeing images from last year, them snogging for example. She also kept seeing Harry and Ron, saying they didn't need her; they were perfectly capable of managing things on their own. She shuddered at the thought.

The night was beautiful, with the stars glimmering in the sky. It was just a beautiful night to spend outside on Hermione's birthday with the boy, no, man she loved. But then back came the horrible thoughts: Voldemort, Horcruxes, Dementors, and oh, so many other horrible things that could happen in just one moment.

"What are you frowning about?" Ron asked, noting her face.

"I'm just thinking of how everything can change," she replied. "You're right. It's not fair."

"Just think: in one year we'll be sitting somewhere, you and me, talking about this night and how scared we were. We'll probably be laughing our arses off. And I'll give you something better than Sugar Quills as your present. "

"Oh, Ron, they're perfect. I love them!" _I love you_ thought Hermione.

He smiled, clearly happy of the thought of pleasing Hermione. "I better go back inside. You'll be alright here?"

"I'm already a year older than you Ron," Hermione smirked. "I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

He grinned widely. "'Night, Hermione."

She grinned back. "'Night Ron."

She smiled to herself when he had left. Now that was _her_ Ron. The Ron that made the best of the situation. And he had smiled_her _grin. The grin that always made her heart go faster and made her melt.

Maybe everything would turn out alright.

* * *

_Thanks to everyone who reviews this story! You are the people that keep me writing. If you liked this chapter, maybe you would like to read another chapter about Ron/Hermione love in my newest story, Family Bonds. _


	4. The Locket

_**Disclaimer**: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. _

_This is the second part of the last chapter. It's one year later, and Ron and Hermione are reflecting on the previous year. _

* * *

_Eleven months, one week, two days, and 13 hours later_

"So, what are you doing for Hermione's birthday?" George asked Ron as he was counting money at the desk in WWW. "It's coming up soon."

"I'm not sure, actually," Ron replied as he shelved the fake wands. "It's her first birthday with us together, and I don't want to muck it up."

"Do something simple," George suggested, eying his younger brother carefully. "She'll like whatever you do."

Ron turned to George with an eyebrow raised. "Since when have you become such an expert on relationships?"  
"I'm older, little brother. I know these things," George said giving him a grin. "Besides, it's just common sense."  
Ron snorted. "I'd like to see you picking out gifts and reserving reservations for your girlfriend. If you ever have a girlfriend. Now don't give me that face. I saw that girl the other day here, and the other girl the day after," he added as George opened his mouth in protest.

George threw an empty box at him, but Ron ducked in time. He kneeled down to pick the thrown box and threw it back. George wasn't as lucky as Ron and didn't kneel down in time. It grazed by his eye and fell to the floor. He made a gruesome face after it hit him and kneeled down as if in pain. "My eye! My eye!"

Ron ran to him in shock, but by now George was laughing. "Be careful what you do to your boss, Ron. I could fire you at any moment."

Ron scowled at him. "You wouldn't," he said in a deep voice.

"I wouldn't," George said softly looking away. "Not to one of my brothers." Ron wasn't sure, but he thought he saw a trace of a tear on George's face. Shaking his head, he went back to shelving. He shouldn't have said that.

* * *

_Three weeks, five days, and six hours later. _

Ron was almost ready. He had made dinner, an old classic, but still Hermione's favorite, steak and kidney pie. He had bought some nice wine and set the table. He had lit candles and dimmed the lights. He was ready.

All that was missing was Hermione.

Glancing at the clock on the mantelpiece, he sighed. She was coming later and later each day as the NEWTs came much closer to proximity. It was 7 o' clock, and there was no sign of her yet. He stood up and walked into the kitchen to check on the dessert. Yes, it was still cool thanks to the Cooling Charm he had applied to it.

"Ron, I'm he – oh!" a voice came from the dining room.

His eyes widening, he hurried into the dining room to find Hermione, books under her arm, wand in the other, and with a shocked look on her face staring at the setting before her.

"Happy Birthday!" Ron exclaimed giving her a smile and walking over to her. "Here, let me take your books and everything." She looked at him with a soft look on her face as he took her books and sent them to the living room on her desk.

"You did this for me?" Hermione whispered, brown eyes interlocking with blue.

Ron could already feel his ears going red. "It's your birthday after all," he replied.

"But – but – you don't know how to cook. Or you didn't last year," Hermione said, narrowing her eyes at him.  
"Mum's been teaching me. I kind of like it," he replied, shrugging. "It's useful too. In case we ever have to hide again."  
She laughed. "I don't think we'll have to do that again." She sobered. "Ron, thank you. Thank you!" she exclaimed wrapping her arms around him. He enveloped her in an embrace and kissed her on her head. "I figured you might need a break."

"I do need it," she replied looking at him, breaking out of the embrace. "I really do."

"Well then, sit down. Here," Ron said as he extended a chair out for her. "Wine?" he asked taking the bottle and a glass.

She laughed. "Please. It looks good Ron!"

It was his turn to laugh as he poured the drink. "Always the tone of surprise." He handed it to her, she took it and smiled. "It always seems that it is, doesn't it?"

"It shouldn't be anymore," he replied, taking his seat across from her. He took his fork, but instead of cutting a piece, he watched Hermione's reaction to his food. She took a bite of the pie and popped it into her mouth. After a few moments of chewing, her face light up. "Really good, Ron!" she exclaimed.

He grinned and took a bite of the pie. It _was_ good. Mum's training hadn't gone to waste.

As the evening went on, he could see that Hermione was becoming a bit more serious, and a bit more thoughtful.

"What are you thinking of?" Ron asked, noting her solemn expression.

She swallowed. "Nothing much, I suppose. I was just thinking of last year when in hiding. My birthday, I guess."

Ron nodded as his thoughts as well turned to their talk on her birthday last year.

"_Just think: in one year we'll be sitting somewhere, you and me, talking about this night and how scared we were. We'll probably be laughing our arses off. And I'll give you something better than Sugar Quills as your present," Ron said. _

"_Oh, Ron, they're perfect. I love them!" Hermione exclaimed. _

"We're not laughing," Hermione remarked as she took a sip of her wine.

Ron shook his head and looked at her, her face not sporting its usual glow that he loved. "No, we're not."

"It's over, at least," she said, twisting her napkin together.

"I never thought that something would happen to other people. I thought we three would be the ones getting killed, not people that we knew. And much less to Fred," he said, moving the food around the plate. He wasn't hungry anymore.

"It seems surreal, doesn't it? Last year we were in hiding, so scared. And now, we're eating pie and drinking wine. And alive. We have to be thankful that we're alive, Ron."

"Yeah I guess." They were quiet for a few moments until Ron's face brightened. "I almost forgot! Your present!"

"My present? But I thought this was my present," Hermione said, looking confused.

"Yeah it is," Ron said, blue eyes twinkling. "Part one."

"Ron, this is more than enough!" she shouted to Ron who had now gotten up and ran to his bedroom. "Ron!"

Ron could hear her protests, but he didn't care. He knew that she'd love her gift. Or so he hoped. He crouched down to his sock drawer and removed a small black box. He stood up and grinned. He walked back to the dining room where Hermione was waiting with an angry expression on her face.

"Ronald Bilius Weasley, I told you to not get me anything!"  
"Hermione Jean Weasley, I don't care. Now please let me give you your present!"

She frowned. "Alright."

Ron grinned. "Excellent. Now here. Close your eyes," he said. "Please?" he asked when she didn't oblige.

"Fine," she said closing her eyes and crossing her arms.

He walked towards her and opened the black box. He opened it and took her present out. He quickly put it over her head and placed the box in her hands. She was going to love it. "Alright," he said.

She opened her eyes and they flew to the box in her hands, then to Ron who was now beaming madly, and finally to a locket that was around her neck. Her eyes widened at the sight of it.. "How – how – did you get this? It's my – my locket!"

"Well, it's not exactly your _old _locket. I knew you missed it. And well, it was your Gran's and your Mum's and how much you loved it. I couldn't go and nick it from Umbridge, but I did the best I could." Ron indeed know how much Hermione missed it. He often caught her in the act of reaching to her neck to pat it, but when realizing it wasn't there, she sighed and returned to whatever she had been doing. It was hard for her, knowing that Umbridge had it. He still remembered when he had first found out what she had done.

"_What d'you mean, you don't have it?" Ron shouted at Hermione. _

_Hermione was close to tears by now. "I – I transfigured it. Into Umbridge's locket. We couldn't have left without giving her locket back. She would have suspected something and reported it. If Voldemort found out that we're hunting Horcruxes, well, we would be dead now."  
"So you transfigured your locket? Why didn't you transfigure something else?"  
"It's complex, Ron," she said. "To transfigure an object of Dark Magic, you have to have an object of similar shape and size. And, well, my locket had similar shape and size. I don't regret it."_

"So you bought me another one?" Hermione asked, fingering its rose engravings.  
"I tried. I even went to your Mum for help. She knew it a little better than I did, of course."

"Ron, it's almost identical," Hermione said. "It's beautiful. Thank you!" she exclaimed, hugging him and kissed him lovingly on the lips.

"So you do like it?" Ron asked her, breaking the kiss.

"Didn't I just tell you that?"

"Well, yeah, but I know that nothing could replace your old locket that was in your family for so long."

"It's the thought that counts, Ron. But I do like it. The roses are beautiful, almost exactly the same in my other one."  
Ron's face brightened by the compliment. "Yeah, the roses are nice. I thought you'd like them."

"You know me so well," Hermione said, laughing and pecking his cheek. "I think this is the best birthday I've ever had," she remarked.

"Oh yeah?" Ron asked, giving her a kiss on her nose. "Why's that?"

"I'm spending it the same way I've been wanting to spend it for _years_," she said. "With the man I love."

"Well that's good," he replied. "Because this is how _I've _been wanting to spend it for years.

"And how's that?" Hermione asked grinning at him.

"With the woman I love."

* * *

_A lot of fluff, huh? I really like how these last two chapters turned out. As always, I appreciate reviews. It only takes a few moments, and it makes the author (moi!) really happy!_


	5. Talking in the Grass

_Did you think I had abandoned you? I hope not! I work more on my other story, Family Bonds a bit more than this one. So if you ever want to read something similar to this story, that one! So to change the tune a bit, I did some Harry/Ginny. Hope you like it, and please remember to review. _

_Thanks Anna for the wonderful ideas for this chapter._

_It was the heat of the battle in Hogwarts. Flashes of light were everywhere, and she could hear people shouting spells and curses, but Ginny was oblivious to all that. She could only see one person in the room: Alecto Carrow. The person who had made her suffer most this year._

_Ginny yelled, "Stupefy!" to Alecto. She missed by centimeters. _

"_You think you can beat me, crazy girl? You think you are going to win this?" Alecto shouted menacingly. She pointed her wand towards Ginny and shouted "Crucio!"_

_Ginny moved in time, and was going to try to Stun her again, but then, out of nowhere, came a voice. _

"_Harry Potter is dead. He died while trying to escape."_

Ginny froze in place. She could hear Alecto scream in joy, and some moans from fighters in the room. But after moments of aimless thinking, she shouted "NO!" at the top of her lungs, running to the front doors.

Panting, Ginny woke up. She was in a sweat, as was custom every morning. She kept having this nightmare every night since the battle. It wouldn't go away. To remember that moment…she didn't ever want to relive it - but her mind was making her. She slid out of bed and slipped her slippers on. She staggered to the shower and took a quick shower, trying to shake the memories of her dream away.

-

Ginny shuffled down the stairs, trying not to take in the aromas of breakfast being prepared by Molly and sat down at the kitchen table. Molly then placed a steaming plate in front of Ginny. George was already at the table with a plate in front of him. She picked up her fork and listlessly dragged it around her plate. Once in a while she's chew a mouthful of eggs, but after five minutes she sighed and put her fork down.

"Ginny," Molly said, observing her actions, "are you alright?"

She nodded lazily and picked up her plate. "Yes, Mum. Fine. Great." She walked to the sink and washed her plate. Molly leaned on the counter, drying her hands with a washcloth. She exchanged a concerned look with George, who shrugged. "Ginny, dear," she said, "are you sure? We're very concerned about you. You've seemed to be a little down lately."

Ginny sighed and placed her newly-washed plate on the counter. "I'm fine. Great."

"Ginny, you obviously are not. You've been like this for a few weeks now."

"Mum!" she shouted, turning around. "I'm _fine, _alright? Completely wonderful."

"No need to take that tone with me, Ginevra," Molly said sternly.

"Sorry," she said. "I'm going outside to walk a bit. I'll be back soon."

She stepped outside and walked slowly to the garden. She didn't _want _to be mean at her Mum. It just happened – someone said something and it just triggered her emotions. She felt bad for talking back to her Mum, but the best thing to do right now was to walk it off. She circled the garden, and stopped to look at the gnomes. She laughed softly at an old gnome cursing under his breath. She remembered the day that Fred and George spent teaching the gnomes to curse. That day seemed so long ago. She made her way over to the solitary Quidditch pitch, and she felt a wave of sadness overcome her. She remembered all the games with Fred there, the twin's plans to prank people, when Fred was the only one to let her ride her broom with him…all her memories right now involved Fred, Fred, Fred. She suddenly got the urge to lie down on the grass, to relieve her memories. She laid down on the grass, and a sense of relief washed over her as soon as she did. The grass was sweet and soft, something predictable, one thing that she knew that would never change. Unlike her life.

Ginny stared up at the iridescent sky. Ever since she was a young girl, she liked to stare up at the sky and make out figures of the clouds. She did this now, and a sense of nostalgia came to her. There went a dragon. A face. A bird. A broom. She felt the rustling of a quiet breeze, and the chirping of some birds. It was peaceful out there. Somewhere to think…and not think. She closed her eyes, and started to nod off, but then heard light footsteps approaching her. She smelled a familiar, musky smell, and she recognized that smell to be Harry's. She felt him lay down next to her. She was quiet for a few moments, until she opened her eyes and rolled over to face him.

"I didn't mean to wake you," he said silently.

"I wasn't asleep," she replied, just as silently.

They were quiet for a few moments, Harry's emerald eyes staring at her. Finally, he spoke. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" she whispered.

"For everything."

"You have nothing to be sorry about," she said coldly. She then rolled back to her back and looked back up at the sky.

"Then why are you avoiding me? Why are you avoiding _everyone_?" Harry asked bluntly. Ginny sighed and closed her eyes. No one had been so bold with her, questioning her actions. She opened her eyes and rolled over back to face Harry. "Because I'm afraid," she replied.

"Of what?"

"Of what's coming." As soon as she said this, Harry gently took her hand in his and rubbed it gently. "I know what you're going to say," she said hurriedly. "That everything's going to be okay."  
Harry sighed, and grasped her hand even harder. "Everything's going to be alright. But we're going to have difficulties. Ginny, you're not the only one hurting right now. You're whole family is hurting right now. You can't just bottle up your sadness, Gin."

Ginny let go of Harry's hand. She was so naïve…such a fool, such an idiot. She stared at Harry's face and saw his hopeful expression. "I don't know what to do," she confessed softly. "Everyone has someone - someone to talk to, someone to rely on. Mum and Dad, Bill and Fleur, Ron and Hermione, even Percy and Charlie are starting to get along better with George. And you," she practically shouted as she sat up, "you're so quiet! You don't talk at all! I ask you something, you give me one-word answers. This is the first time you say more than a sentence to me all this time! What am I supposed to think?"

Harry sat up, and picked at a tuff of grass. "I…I'm hurting too Ginny. And it's not that I don't want to talk to you, believe me I do. But, it's hard. I don't want to hurt you."

"Hurt me? Hurt me, Harry?" Ginny cried softly, blinking back tears. "You've already hurt me! You don't know how much you hurt me when you broke up with me. You don't know much I hurt this last year. You left with no warning, no goodbyes, no explanations. Nothing at all! Don't you know how much I was hurting? Every time I'd write home to Mum and ask for news, there was never any news! I'd listen to Potterwatch, no news! Only when you went to Bill's I knew you were okay. But no messages for me or anything! Do you know how _close_ I came to sneaking out of old bat Muriel's and going to Shell Cottage?" Ginny held up her thumb and forefinger close together. "That close! But I knew Mum would have hysterics and go all crazy. It was horrible, Harry! And then when they said you died…it was one of the most horrible moments of my life. To see you, lying on the grass-"

"You think I wasn't hurting, Ginny?" Harry interrupted. "Of course I was hurting. You were the only one that made me happy during that time when we were dating. I'd never been happier! And I never wanted to break things with you; I had to! I'd dream about you all the time; I wanted to be with you so badly. After you kissed me on my birthday, it took all my self-control not to run back to you and kiss you senseless. And when we were in hiding and learned the news about you stealing the sword, I almost had a heart attack! And then every night I'd open the Marauder's Map and search for your dot. It was torture Ginny! It was_ torture _not to hold you; not to kiss you; not to go and hug you when you appeared in the Room of Requirement that night. And the last thought I had before Voldemort tried to kill me was of you. Of no one else, but you!" Tears were running down Harry's face and Ginny reached out for him. She held on to him, and he gripped back just as tight.  
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I've been so arrogant, so selfish! I've been so mean to Mum, to George, to you."

"I'm sorry too," he whispered back, his voice sounding hoarse. "I guess it's partly my fault. I didn't want to hurt you, but I guess I made things worse."

"We're really messed up, aren't we?' Harry said.

Ginny nodded, and stared into Harry's emerald eyes. She was having a sense of déjà vu; this moment right now reminded her a lot of when they were dating and would sit near the lake and talk for hours. His eyes were mesmerizing…like little green jewels. She saw Harry leaning in towards her, and she found herself doing the same. The next thing she knew, they were kissing. She could think of nothing, only that she was in pure bliss as she was kissing him. It was almost a year since they last kissed, and she savored every moment of it. She ran her hands through his hair, and she felt his hands on her back, which sent shivers down her spine. When they finally let go of each other, they were both breathing heavily.

-

The next thing Ginny knew, they were lying under a big oak tree in the garden. She was happy right now – the most she had ever been in a year. She was with Harry, the one she loved. They were in a comfortable silence, and she could see Harry's eyelids drooping. She herself could feel herself slipping into a deep slumber.

-

Harry woke up suddenly. That was the first time he had slept without a nightmare almost all year. He looked down at Ginny. She was fast asleep. It had suddenly happened – how they were suddenly back together. And he was happy about that. This is what he most wanted right now – to live a normal life and to have a girlfriend and to be _happy. _Suddenly, he heard laughter. He craned his neck to look around the tree. He saw Ron and Hermione coming around the bend, holding hands and laughing. Harry shook his head, laughing to himself. He was going to shake Ginny awake to see Ron and Hermione's actions, but decided not to. She looked so peaceful right now. He closed his eyes, and felt himself slip away again. What seemed like seconds later, he felt steps approaching and he opened his eyes. Alarmed, he fumbled clumsily for his wand and extended it wide above him. Staring back at him was Ron and Hermione, hand-in-hand. Ron's ears were red, and he looked like he wanted to explode. Hermione's face was pink. Ron stammered, "Er, sorry mate. Er, didn't know you were here. Bye. Sorry!" He immediately took off running with Hermione rushing after him after a quick "Sorry!" Harry leaned back against the tree, stunned for a moment, then started roaring with laughter.

-

"And that's _it_? He just said, 'Sorry Mate' and that's _it_?" Ginny laughed and rolled over in the grass. "I can't believe it."

"Just that."

Ginny laughed again. "They're both bloody mental right now. They just hold hands and they're not seen for _hours _and when we see them, they're blushing like mad."

"That's how we were when we first started to date," Harry pointed out.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "I don't think we were that crazy."

Harry shook his head, laughing. He stood up and glanced at the watch Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had given him for his birthday. "It's dinnertime."  
Ginny slowly stood up with help from Harry. "Let's go. We skipped lunch. I'm starved."

Harry laughed and put his arm around her. "That was your idea, Gin. Not mine."

"Oh yeah? And whose idea was it to tell me it was lunchtime half an hour after it started?"

Harry blushed and took Ginny's hand in his. She smiled and leaned her head on Harry's shoulder.

-

"I'm worried about Ginny," Molly confessed. She set a plate at each place on the table. She considered whether placing one for Ginny, but decided to after thinking about it for a few moments.

"Yeah, she was bloody rude this morning," George said as he sat down at the table.

"She'll be fine," Ron replied walking into the dining room with a platter of chicken. He set it carefully on the table.

"Oh yeah? How do you know?" George asked, rolling his eyes.

"Want to bet? Galleon she'll be laughing when she comes in."

"You're on," George replied. He took a Galleon, and placed it on the table. "But you're going to lose."

Just then, Ginny and Harry entered the kitchen, both laughing at something that Harry had said. George rolled his eyes again. "You saw them, didn't you? Not fair." George gave the Galleon to a smirking Ron.

* * *


End file.
